The Undercover Mother_A laugh-out-loud romantic comedy about love, friendship and parenting Read online

  Gemma seemed oblivious to Gail’s sarcasm. ‘No, no, I had no problems with any of my pregnancies or births. It’s all about a positive mental attitude, I think.’ Surprise, surprise, she’s one of those. Jenny felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck. Next, she would be announcing how some women make ‘a lot of fuss’ about childbirth. And then Jenny would be forced to push her under the next big wave.

  Enough was enough: she couldn’t listen to this Gemma woman any more. ‘We really should be going soon, ladies. Antonia will be waiting for us back at the house.’

  ‘Good idea,’ agreed Gail. ‘There’s a bottle of wine in the fridge which is shouting my name.’ She put her hands either side of her mouth as a funnel, and changed her voice. ‘Gail! Drink me now!’

  Gemma raised her head and turned to Gail with acute interest. ‘Gail? Are you the one who doesn’t have a—?’

  Naomi jumped up, hurriedly. ‘Yes, yes, you’re right, we should go. It was great to meet you, Gemma. You’ve given me lots to think about.’

  What exactly had Naomi been thinking?

  ‘I might try and get a quick nap,’ said Ruth, as they walked off the beach. ‘I’m sure that wine must have been double strength. I only had half a glass.’

  ‘We’ll allow you an hour and then we want you back.’ Jenny waved a finger at her. She was as keen as Gail to get the vino flowing. Some drunkenness would either generate a little fun for her ‘Girl About Town: On Tour’ feature, or would loosen their tongues enough to give her the big scoop for The Undercover Mother that might make Eva change her mind. Tonight had to be the night.

  Chapter Thirty

  My kitchen has been taken over by plastic pots with escapologist lids. We even have a whole cupboard dedicated to them now. I’ve tried to limit the problem: regular culls where any pot or lid without a perfectly matched partner is shown the door. But somehow they continue to breed, gremlin-like, in the darkness of the cupboard under the sink.

  It’s not just the pots. There are baby spoons, beakers, plastic bibs. There was a time when I wouldn’t even allow a mismatched mug into the cupboard. Now Mr Baby and I can sometimes be found eating our dinner from a Peppa Pig plate.

  Dinner this weekend with the Spice Mums will be a much more refined affair. I am hoping that the wine will be flowing and the stories will follow…

  From ‘The Undercover Mother’

  * * *

  Although the afternoon was almost over, the angle of the sun meant that the terrace behind the house was light and warm. Arranged around a wooden table were four chairs and a long bench, all with navy and white striped seat cushions and a few floral scatter cushions.

  Antonia was sitting alone at one end of the table, speaking intently into her mobile. Jenny walked onto the terrace slowly, to give her a chance to finish her call.

  ‘That will be great. See you then.’ Antonia closed her phone case and put it down.

  Jenny sat down next to her and placed five glasses on the table. The dark green foliage that surrounded them made this area feel very secluded and private. The perfect place for a quiet conversation. ‘Wine?’ she asked. Then Gail and Ruth came out of their room, laughing about something, and joined them in the garden. Dammit.

  Gail looked very relaxed. ‘This garden is a lovely little sun trap, isn’t it?’

  ‘I can’t remember the last time I just sat still in the sun like this,’ sighed Ruth. ‘Just a very small one for me, please,’ she said, as Jenny waved the bottle in her direction. She held out two glasses and passed one of them to Gail once they were filled. ‘Well, don’t we all scrub up well?’

  ‘It seems to take me a lot longer to get ready these days.’ Jenny started on her wine. ‘I was looking at some younger photos of myself the other day and noticed that my hair is definitely thinner than it was – and I’m definitely fatter. If only it was the other way around.’

  Gail nodded. ‘The hair thing is very annoying. I’ve got these strange tufts all over the place where it’s starting to grow back. That’s why I had it all cropped. I couldn’t bear it.’

  Jenny looked at Gail’s new hairstyle enviously. It was rather severe, but it suited her. If Jenny had cut her hair like that she would have looked like an extra from Full Metal Jacket.

  Naomi wandered out onto the patio, still brushing her hair. ‘More wine? I never knew you were all such alcoholics.’ She slipped onto the bench next to Ruth. What had looked like a plain navy dress crumpled on Naomi’s bed was something special now it was clinging to all the right places on her body. If John wasn’t making her happy, he’d better buck his ideas up, thought Jenny. There’ll be plenty of men out there tonight who would like to.

  ‘Let’s look at our itineraries.’ Antonia picked up a piece of paper from the table and rustled it importantly. The others retrieved theirs from their bags and did the same.

  ‘Okay. Okay. Very funny.’ Jenny poked her tongue out at them. She’d emailed details of the restaurant and other venues hoping it would make it less likely that they’d drop out.

  Antonia peered at her copy. ‘This restaurant you’ve booked sounds nice.’

  ‘I hope so – I’m feeling the pressure of being the organiser now. I don’t actually know Brighton that well, so I got some recommendations from people at the magazine.’ Jenny took a large gulp of wine. She really hoped she’d got it right. The last thing she wanted was people going home early tonight. ‘I’ve got us on the guest lists at a couple of decent clubs that we could go to after dinner if you want to dance, but I’ve also got the names of a few bars if you’d prefer that. I’ll mention that I’m writing a feature for Flair and we might even get some free drinks.’

  ‘Either sounds good to me.’ Antonia raised her glass. ‘Here’s to you, Jen, darling. Thanks for organising us.’ The others echoed her sentiments and Jenny smiled and pretended to bow. Maybe it was the wine, but she felt an unexpected rush of warmth towards them all.

  ‘I just hope you enjoy it.’ Jenny held up crossed fingers. ‘Last time I was here was my hen weekend.’

  ‘Has everyone else been to Brighton before?’ Gail looked around at each of them. ‘I haven’t been here for about ten years. I’m looking forward to exploring the nightlife.’

  ‘Me, too,’ said Naomi. ‘It’s ages since I’ve had a proper night out. Plus, we must make sure we’re fun and interesting so that Jenny can write about us in her “Girl About Town” column. What do we need to do, Jen?’

  ‘Nothing out of the ordinary. I’ll mostly be writing about the venues,’ Jenny could feel a blush beginning in her cheeks and took a swig of wine to disguise it. ‘If something funny happens, I might include it.’

  ‘Do you think we’ll get chatted up tonight?’ In a fitted black dress and four-inch heels, Antonia probably had a good chance of turning a few heads. ‘Or are we too old for that? It might be fun to have a little flirt.’

  But meeting men was not part of Jenny’s plan. They would just get in the way. ‘Count me out. Flirting requires a lot more energy than I’ve got. I don’t think I could even muster up a bat of my eyelashes.’

  ‘The part I always found exhausting about flirting was having to pretend to be interested in whatever the guy was saying,’ said Ruth. ‘“Really? You think a Mercedes outclasses a BMW? That’s absolutely fascinating!”’

  Antonia raised an eyebrow. ‘I think you’ve all forgotten how exciting it can be to have a new man interested in you.’

  Gail looked at her sharply. ‘You sound as if you’ve had recent experience.’

  Antonia sat back in her chair and dangled her glass between her thumb and forefinger. ‘I just think it would be fun to play at being footloose and fancy free for a night.’

  ‘I think you’ve forgotten how hideous it is to be in a nightclub at 2 a.m. watching the last-ditch desperados frantically looking for someone.’ Jenny shuddered. ‘It’s not for me.’

  Antonia picked up the bottle of wine and started to refill everyone’s glass. Naomi seemed to have empti
ed hers, even though she shouldn’t be drinking.

  ‘Let’s have one last drink and then head off for dinner,’ said Antonia. ‘Then maybe we can have a look at some of these desperados for ourselves.’

  * * *

  The restaurant was perfect. The floor was dark wood, the chairs were dark brown leather and a low-hung chandelier dimly lit each table. Jenny had requested a circular table – a square would have been awkward for five – and all was as she’d hoped. Thank goodness.

  ‘This looks great. Well done, darling.’ Antonia squeezed Jenny’s arm and the others murmured agreement. A waiter came to meet them, took their coats and then showed them to their table.

  ‘What a great menu.’ Ruth flicked through the leather-bound volume she’d been given by the waiter. ‘I’m definitely off my diet tonight.’ She peered over as the next table’s food was being delivered. ‘I reckon I could eat about three of those plates. Oh, why do I love food so much?’

  Naomi shook her head. ‘I don’t know why you worry – it’s not as if you’re overweight.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, my dear, but the belt buckle holes do not lie.’ Ruth pulled a face. ‘I think I actually prefer food to sex.’

  ‘God, don’t we all.’ Antonia looked up from the wine list.

  ‘How can you say that?’ Naomi was indignant. ‘I’ve hardly ever seen you eat anything.’

  ‘So, what does that tell you?’ Antonia said in a husky voice. They all laughed.

  Maybe Jenny wasn’t the only one whose romantic life had taken a back seat. ‘We’ve barely had sex since the baby. I’m just so knackered all the time. Getting up at 3 a.m. night after night is killing me.’

  ‘I’m exhausted, too,’ said Naomi, ruefully, ‘but John is an every-night kind of man. Sometimes I think I might fall asleep halfway through. No, seriously,’ she said, as the others started to laugh.

  ‘When Dan and I first met we couldn’t get enough of each other, either. I blame these babies and their constant neediness.’

  ‘It’s not just having a baby that does it.’ Ruth looked down into her glass, then up at the others.

  Jenny could have kicked herself for letting the conversation lapse into baby talk, but before she could change the topic, the waiter arrived to take their order. She had purposefully chosen a restaurant with good vegetarian options for Naomi, and a good wine list for Antonia. Everyone should be happy.

  After they’d ordered, Antonia tried to lighten the conversation. ‘Let’s get serious with the girl talk. Anal sex, ladies. Yes or no?’ They all chorused ‘No’ except Gail, who looked exaggeratedly coy over the top of her glass. This made them all laugh, even Ruth.

  ‘Really?’ Naomi looked rather shocked. ‘It’s not for me. John did suggest it once but I really couldn’t be arsed.’ It took her a few seconds of everyone laughing to realise what she had said and join in the laughter herself.

  ‘Me, neither,’ said Ruth. ‘I feel the same way about anal sex as I do about bungee jumping – I’ve heard people say it’s amazing, but that doesn’t mean I ever want to try it.’

  ‘You’re obviously more a woman of the world than the rest of us,’ Jenny said to Gail. ‘Anything exciting you want to share with us?’ Please?

  Gail tried to look innocent. ‘Not me, I’m a good Catholic girl.’ She laughed and let the mock pious expression drop. ‘I’ve had a few experiences in my time. When I was eighteen, I told my mum I was on a gap year and followed an amateur rock band around Europe. Now, that was a pretty wild time.’

  After Gail’s tales of seedy hotels and equally seedy wannabe rock stars, Naomi told them about a group-therapy session at a yoga retreat which sounded like it had been a borderline orgy, and Jenny told a long, funny anecdote about the time she’d dated a devoutly religious man who would take his cross from around his neck every time they had sex and then leave almost immediately to go to confession. ‘So much for you good Catholics,’ she teased Gail.

  ‘What’s the point of life if you don’t live it to the full? Have some fun and then move on. That’s what men do.’ Gail raised her glass as she spoke.

  ‘Not all men are like that,’ said Ruth. Jenny knew she was thinking about David. He hadn’t had much fun in the last year. Good men stayed.

  Antonia took a large gulp of her wine and stared into the glass. ‘A lot are, though.’

  Antonia agreeing with Gail was a surprise. Where was this going?

  ‘And as long as they’re getting what they want out of a relationship, they’ll say and do whatever’s required to keep it ticking along.’

  Jenny and Ruth exchanged glances.

  Antonia looked up. ‘Geoff’s having an affair.’

  There was an instant hush around the table. With unfortunate timing, the waiter delivered their meals and it took a couple of minutes for everyone to get the correct plate. When the waiter left, everyone picked up their forks and started to eat.

  No wonder Antonia had acted so strangely with Jenny in the café earlier. It was Geoff who was having the affair. Clearly, it was impossible for them to go back to talking about losing your bra in Budapest after that announcement, but did Antonia want to talk about it any further?

  The silence was painful. And Antonia had brought it up, after all. Jenny took the bull by the horns. ‘Are you sure, Antonia?’

  Antonia drank more wine. ‘As sure as finding the nanny’s knickers in your bed when you return from a weekend at your mother’s.’

  ‘The nanny?’ Gail looked shocked. ‘The nanny?’ she repeated, in disbelief.

  Jenny felt the same. How had she got it so wrong? She felt terrible for suggesting to Antonia that it had been her who had been playing away from home.

  Antonia stared at her glass again. ‘Not just the nanny, though. This isn’t the first time it’s happened. He’s not particularly discreet.’ She smiled weakly. ‘I guess when you’ve been found out before and your wife does nothing, then you no longer need to bother covering your tracks.’ Antonia tried her best to look world-weary and nonchalant, but she was clearly neither. ‘I know for sure of at least three others. One of them was a friend of mine.’

  Gail’s eyes were bright and fierce. ‘How the hell can you put up with that? I would want to kill him. I damn sure wouldn’t still be married to him. He’d have been out of that door after the very first time. Why are you putting up with it?’

  Although Gail’s outburst was unsettling, Jenny agreed with her.

  Antonia shrugged, then tried to make a joke. ‘Don’t worry, I get my revenge by spending as much of his money as I can. This dinner is on me. How is that spinach cannelloni, Naomi?’

  How could she be so matter of fact? If Dan was having an affair, Jenny would be a wreck. But she followed Antonia’s lead and talked about her dinner. Naomi and Ruth did the same. Everyone was awkward. They couldn’t talk about babies. They couldn’t talk about husbands. Or sex. Antonia wasn’t even eating anything, and Gail continued to stare at her as if she’d never seen her before. By the time the waiter collected their plates and brought dessert menus, the conversation had dropped to the subject of their favourite book, and who would play them in a movie of their life. Safe subjects. No use to The Undercover Mother.

  ‘I never know what to order for dessert.’ Naomi ran her finger down the options. ‘Everything sounds so nice and then I always end up ordering cheesecake.’

  ‘Why don’t you go for the trio of desserts, then?’ suggested Ruth. ‘One of them is a tiny cheesecake but then you get to try two other things, too – crème brûlée and chocolate ganache.’

  ‘That sounds like something they put on your face at a health spa.’ Jenny needed to get the evening back on track, and quickly. Just keep talking.

  ‘Oh, let’s do that next time,’ sighed Naomi. ‘Have a weekend at a health spa.’ Ruth and Antonia agreed; Gail continued to sip her wine. Silently. Why wasn’t she joining in?

  ‘I did think about that this time, but I wasn’t sure I knew you all well enough ye
t to get my wobbly bits out in front of you.’

  ‘Honestly, I don’t know why you all worry so much about weight and size! You are what you are and if you don’t like it, you just need to do some exercise, not cut back on food,’ said Naomi. Ruth and Jenny glanced at each other: Give her another few years.

  ‘What are you going to have for dessert?’ Jenny asked Gail, trying to bring her back into the conversation. Gail was now staring at the menu, her face dark and forbidding.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ She was tight-lipped and not taking her eyes from the choices in front of her, although she didn’t appear to be reading them. ‘I might not bother with dessert, actually. I’m going to the bathroom.’ Without looking at the others, she got up from the table and stalked towards the toilets.

  The others looked at each other uncomfortably. ‘What’s wrong with her?’ Naomi asked Jenny.

  Jenny shrugged. ‘Bad memories, maybe?’

  ‘Or good ones?’ Antonia suggested. Jenny didn’t understand what she meant, but the atmosphere around the table was already too uncomfortable to question her further. She just wanted to change the subject before the whole night went down the pan.

  ‘Right, are we having dessert or shall we pay the bill?’

  ‘Let’s pay the bill and go.’ Antonia motioned to the waiter for their bill. ‘Time for a change of scene.’

  Gail reappeared as they were getting their coats. Jenny muttered to Ruth, ‘And to think I was worried that you would be the one to feel uncomfortable.’

  Ruth’s eyes were wide. ‘I can’t believe what I’m hearing. What else are we going to find out?’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  On the first few dates with your future husband, you might discuss whether you have the same taste in films or whether he likes Chinese food as much as you. You probably don’t consider how good he’ll be at sponging baby sick off the sofa and whether he’ll be able to recall every verse of ‘You Are My Sunshine’ as he walks up and down the hall carrying a screaming infant at 2 a.m.